


Come In Out of the Rain

by FreeSpiritSeeker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:44:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1925535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeSpiritSeeker/pseuds/FreeSpiritSeeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an animagus Transfiguration incident gone wrong, Hermione Granger, now a full-fledged Hogwarts teacher, seeks refuge and help from an unlikely source.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A rather soggy Severus Snape stepped into the embracing warmth of his private quarters deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts. In contrast to the rest of the dungeon's halls and even his own Potions classroom, he kept his personal rooms in a perpetual state of warmth. The fireplaces were constantly refilled with fresh logs and a kettle of water was at steady near-boil on a trivet in the corner of the hearth. He shivered and stifled a sneeze before dragging his soaked robes from his body. He tossed them over the fireplace screen to dry, unworried about them catching fire. They'd been thoroughly charmed by his own hand to resist fire after a rather unsettling incident with the infuriating Potter brat and his sidekicks during the boy's first year.

He sighed and slumped down into the comfort of his favorite wingback chair. With a flick of his wrist, the teapot poured a steady stream of hot water into his mug. He sent the kettle back to its place with little more than a thought and a wave of his hand. The good, strong scent of steeping tea began to seep from the mug and he lifted it to his chest. He let his hands rest there, wrapped around the mug, absorbing the heat from the ceramic. He sipped the brew carefully, trying not to scald his tongue and mouth. He sighed again, this time in pleasure as the tea sent a spiral of warmth into his stomach.

He could hardly believe his fortune. He'd just returned from the final meeting with his "probation officer". Kingsley Shacklebolt was a good man, and Severus was glad to have had him on his side when the Battle of Hogwarts and the destruction of the Dark Lord had been finished. The word of The Boy Who Lived to Annoy had certainly helped, along with Severus' own memories, but Kingsley had truly gone to bat for him, keeping him out of Azkaban with the promise to meet personally with Severus weekly to gauge his return to society. For two and a half years now, he'd had to justify his every move with the Ministry. Well, no more. Severus Snape was finally a free man!

Severus scoffed. As if he wanted to return to society. If he'd had his own way, he'd have retreated to a cabin in the middle of the Arctic. And then he'd sit and ruminate just as he did now, on the complete stupidity of people in general. And so Severus sat, gazing into the flames of the fire and thinking his dark thoughts as outside the storm continued to pound the stone facade of Hogwarts.

After the Battle of Hogwarts, it had been amazing how quickly the wizarding community had banded together to return Hogwarts to its former glory. Every brick, every stone, every statue, every staircase had been painstakingly repaired with magic. Within six months, the beautiful old school had been ready for students again. It had taken some shuffling, but those who had wished to return to take their seventh year N.E.W.T. studies had been granted a special allowance. Not surprisingly, Hermione Granger had come in at the top, along with the surprising Draco Malfoy in a very close second. The two had made their peace and within a year, both had positions as Hogwarts Professors. Malfoy as Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Hermione taking over Transfiguration from now-Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

Hermione slunk back inside the safety and warmth of her room, slunk being an apt word for it. She watched stealthily for any sign of Mr. Filch, or gods forbid, Mrs. Norris, that mangy tattletale. She tried to keep her frantic nerves under control. Oh, what was Minerva going to say about this? That Hermione was an utter disaster, and didn't deserve her teaching certificate, certainly. What brainless idiot went out alone to practice animagus Transfiguration?

Apparently, Hermione Jean Granger, she thought, sitting on her rump, a very feline tail curling around her side. She had been sitting in the Forbidden Forest, meditating and focusing on her animagus form. The first blast of pain had startled her, the rush of fur and the bending of bones had frightened her and she'd lost her focus. And then she had become so frightened that she couldn't turn herself back!

Her tail flicked back and forth. Who could she go to for help? She wracked her tiny kitten-sized brain as she started to pace back and forth listing off her friends in her head. Certainly not Harry or Ronald, as much as she loved them, neither of them had the capacity to understand what she'd done. Draco was at the Manor for the break. In fact, the only teachers here besides herself were Minerva and ...Severus! She raced down the halls towards his quarters, her tiny paws making little thumping noises as she ran.

She reached the doorway...now what? How was she going to get his attention? When it came to her, she wanted to smack herself in the head. She lifted her paws and began to scratch repeatedly at the door. It only took a few minutes before the door swung open and Severus Snape appeared, looking rather annoyed. He scanned the hallway looking for whatever miscreant had decided to interrupt his evening in front of the fire. He finally looked down when Hermione let out a soft "Mreow?"

"What do you want, you mangy feline?" he huffed.

Mangy? MANGY? Hermione hissed at him. Without hesitation, she raced inside his quarters before he could grab her.

"What do you think you're doing? Get back here!" Severus called out, turning to give chase. He noticed that the kitten had jumped up on his couch and had immediately curled up there, giving him what appeared to be a smug look. And indeed, if Hermione's face had been her own, it would have shone with smugness. She still couldn't believe he'd called her mangy. Ok, so maybe she was a bit bedraggled from the rain and mud on the way back to the castle. And maybe her hair had transitioned into a rather wild, messy coat, but still, mangy?

Severus sighed and shut the door. He eyed the kitten and made a shooing motion with his hands. "If you're going to stay, you're going to scoot over, you little beast." He raised an eyebrow when the kitten delicately sniffed before standing and padding over exactly one cushion and plopping down again before looking up at him with distaste. He had to stifle a laugh. "So, whose familiar are you?" he asked thoughtfully. He watched as the kitten drifted closer to his fingers, which were drumming on the cushion. He grinned and began to move his fingers quickly, flicking them left to right.

Hermione watched in fascination as Severus' long, strong fingers flicked back and forth in front of her. She couldn't control the kitten-ish urge and reached out to swat at them. She bounced happily, chasing them back and forth and was stunned and distracted enough to fall off the couch itself when Severus let out a long, loud laugh. She was similarly astonished when he reached down and picked her up by the scruff of her neck and placed her on his chest. He began to run his fingers through her thick fur and an involuntary purr began to rumble through Hermione's chest.

Quickly and efficiently, Severus swung his long legs onto the couch and leaned back against the cushions, staring into the fire as he let his fingers run through the wild, but incredibly soft fur of the kitten. He slowly let the flames soothe his mind, letting down the barriers he still carried from years of being a spy. Between the warmth of the flames on his face, and the warm, purring little kitten perched on his chest, he slipped into a sleep deeper than he'd enjoyed in twenty years.

Hermione herself was feeling rather sleepy in the surprisingly warm dungeon room. She blinked sleepily and closed her eyes as Severus' fingers mechanically, but gently, sifted through her fur, lulling her into sleep. She laid her little head on his chest, still purring as she too drifted off into deep dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

He was dreaming. He knew he had to be dreaming. He was sleeping with a warm, very female body curled into his side. His hand stroked down, along the side of a breast, the curvature of ribs and the swell of hips before returning again the way it had come. His face was buried into the soft, sweet-smelling hair of said female. But in his entire life, Severus Snape had never slept beside a woman. It was a luxury he'd never allowed himself, even with the whores he'd occasionally paid to spend time with him. He sighed and buried his nose deeper into the soft, springy curls of his dream-woman and smiled. The scent was oddly recognizable, as if it was a scent he was familiar with on a daily basis. He tightened his arms around the body and gasped, instantly awake at the soft and contented sound that was released by his bedmate at his action. 

His eyes flew open to find himself curled around a petite woman with curly brown hair and the softest skin he'd ever felt. Oh Holy Hell, was that Granger? "Granger? I demand to know the meaning of this!" he shouted, shoving himself away from her before she (hopefully) could feel the effects her lithe, warm little body had had on his. 

Hermione, awake the instant she'd been pushed off of Severus, realized she'd returned to her natural form. Her entirely nude natural form. She shrieked and looked around for something to wrap herself in. Severus seemed to realize what she was doing and quickly tossed his fire-warmed robes to the girl so she could cover herself. Blushing redder than a radish, Hermione was able to squeak out a soft, "thank you!" before wrapping herself up entirely in the robes that smelled of wood smoke, herbs and a scent that was distinctly Severus. 

"You're welcome. Now for the love of little green pixies, what are you doing in my quarters, naked!" he said, keeping his gaze (and his tented trousers) very carefully away from her. 

"It wasn't intentional! I had no idea my clothes wouldn't return along with my regular form!" she cried, trying to stifle back embarrassed tears.

"WHAT?" he shouted, turning back to the girl. Regular form? What the hell had the little twit done to herself? She took a deep breath, sniffling a little and explained what had happened. "And you were the only person I could think of to help me, because I didn't want to disappoint Minerva!" she said mournfully. 

By this time, Severus was pacing, erection having faded somewhat. He pinched the bridge of his nose and whispered a quiet prayer to whatever gods were listening, wondering how he managed to get into these situations. Suddenly he snorted a laugh. 

"And just what do you find so funny, Severus Snape?" Hermione snapped at him. She was in no mood to humor him after being so deeply embarrassed.

"I think I preferred you as a kitten," he said. "You were rather adorable. And quieter." 

Gobsmacked, Hermione just stared at him, before letting out a laugh of her own. "You called me mangy!" she recalled, giggling again. 

"Well what do you expect? You looked like you'd been dragged backwards through a mud puddle!" he said, grinning. Hermione couldn't help but think how much better he looked when he smiled. True, his teeth needed a lot of work, but it made him seem more approachable, less "stay the hell away from me". 

"Honestly woman. How do you manage to get yourself into these predicaments? I'd blame Potter, but this one was entirely your own. What were you thinking, going out to practice becoming an animagus without proper instruction and supervision? Let me guess," he drawled, clearly not amused. "You read about it." 

She couldn't really lie: she had, obviously, read about it in a book It hadn't seemed too hard. After all, Harry's father, godfather and Peter Pettigrew had managed it while in school. True, they'd had more motivation, trying to help dear Remus. But if an absolute lump like Peter Pettigrew could manage to transform himself into an animagus, surely Hermione could, right? 

When she couldn't respond in the negative, he threw his hands into the air. "And you wonder how you got stuck as a kitten, for the love of Merlin!" he cried. 

"Well, who was I supposed to ask? Minerva has more than enough on her plate with running the school and the Order. I don't know any other animagi, and any other instructors have already taken on their apprentices for the year!" 

"Did it ever occur to you, Granger, that I would be more than willing to at least supervise your transformations?" Severus asked.

Hermione blinked in confusion. "Wait, you're an animagus, Severus?" 

"Albus thought it would come in rather handy, 'just in case'." Severus said, nodding. 

Hermione tilted her head, an action that reminded Severus of her kitten-form. "What form do you take?" she asked, without realizing she'd said it aloud.

He glared at her for a moment before sighing and suddenly shrinking in on himself. Within the time-frame of a thought, Severus had transformed. Where the tall, gangly Potions Master had stood now perched a large, black crow. His feathers were deep black but were iridescent green where the firelight hit them. He eyed her and let out a great, loud "caw!" 

She jumped back and laughed before clapping for him. "That was fantastic. Would you really be willing to teach me? Or at least supervise while I transform?" 

Again, it took but a moment for his transformation back to a man, luckily with all his clothes intact. "I have no strong objections to making sure you don't turn yourself into a kitten permanently," he said, folding his arms across his chest. 

She grinned and ran up to him, hugging him. "Thank you, Severus! Oh goodness, is that the time? I need to get to bed." She looked down at his robes, clutched around her slim body. 

"Oh for the love of Merlin, woman, go to bed. You can return those tomorrow. And be prepared for a thorough lesson in becoming an animagus!" he said, shooing her out the door and slamming it behind her. Grinning, Hermione practically skipped back to her quarters. Meanwhile, Severus was running his hand over his face, wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into.


	3. Chapter 3

"Don't look at me like that."

Hermione glared at him.

"It's not my fault. I told you to relax. That your body would automatically return to form if you'd just relax."

The tip of her tail began to twitch in irritation. She let out a long loud yowl that he was certain he should be thankful he didn't speak cat for. "Stop that. You know perfectly well that I'm right," he said, sniffing lightly. "Let's go back to the castle, it smells like rain."

True to his statement, as they were walking back, they were drenched by a deluge of ice-tipped rain. Growling, he snatched Hermione up and hid her inside his robes to keep her from getting completely soaked. He walked as quickly as possible on the mud-slicked ground, slipping and sliding every few steps. When he finally made it back to the castle, he hurried towards his rooms.

With a flick of his wand, the fire in the hearth roared higher. He carefully put Hermione down in front of the fire to warm herself as he shucked out of his once-again soaked robes. "Jemma!" he called out, and in seconds a small female house elf had appeared. "What can Jemma do for Mister Snape?" her tiny voice asked.

"Hot soup, lots of it, please Jemma, with my cold and flu brew, please. Also, can you sliced up a poached chicken breast for Professor Granger?"

The little elf looked over and saw Kitten-Hermione. Her eyes went wide. "Oh my!" she squeaked, turning back to Severus. "Right away, Mister Snape, sir. Bring warm towels too, to dry off with," and with a click of her fingers and a resounding "POP!" she had disappeared.

"Thank you!" he called out, knowing the elf would hear him. He sighed and toed his muddy dragonhide boots off, tossing them by the doorway, knowing Jemma would see them and have them cleaned, as well as cleaning the puddle of dirty water he'd been standing in.

"If you'll excuse me a moment, Granger, I'm going to go change into dry clothes. Jemma will return in a few moments with a warmed towel for you to dry off a bit, as well. Until then, stay in front of the fire and stay warm," he said, turning towards the bedroom.

Hermione sighed and stretched, curling up closer to the fire, staring into the flames. Why was this whole animagus deal being so difficult!? She jolted and let out a resounding squeal when Jemma popped back into the room, banging her side into the fireplace screen.

"Oh, forgive Jemma, Missy Hermione! Did not mean to startle! I's brought nice, clean, warm towels!" Jemma squeaked and hurried over and began to give Hermione a rubdown with the warmed towels. Hermione had to admit to herself that it felt wonderful, and began purring. When she was finally dry and nicely warmed, she licked Jemma's little elfin-hand, making the house elf smile.

The door to Severus' bedroom opened and the Potions Master stepped out. Hermione goggled at the man, for the first time in all the years she'd known him, both as a professor and as a colleague, she'd never seen him in anything less than full frock-coat and every button buttoned. Now the older man was dressed simply in comfortable-looking slacks and a white button-up shirt hanging loosely over it. His feet were bare and his the cuffs of his shirt were rolled back to reveal forearms covered with the pale-silver remnants of his Dark Mark and the scars from cuts and burns of years of brewing. She was amazed at the change in him. He seemed almost approachable, more human in the comfortable clothes and bare feet.

He took one of the warm towels from Jemma and scrubbed his wet hair with it. A tray suddenly appeared on his coffee table, the scent of hot chicken soup wafting from it. Jemma took the wet towel from Severus and the one she'd used on Hermione and disappeared with the familiar popping sound that was so familiar. Severus turned to look at Hermione, and as she watched, his eyes filled with a strange emotion and Hermione realized it was laughter.

She yowled at him in annoyance as if to say, "What?" and he snickered. "It seems that Jemma was a little overzealous in her drying. Your fur is sticking up everywhere."

Hermione's eyes went wide and she quickly tried to use her paws to push her fur into place, making Severus laugh even harder. She whined for a moment and hunkered down on the floor, eyes glaring at the stones of the floor.

"Oh, don't pout, you look adorable anyways. Now come up here and get something to eat. Transforming is hungry work and I know your eating habits, you're probably starving." he said. As soon as he said it, she realized he was right and her stomach let out a horrifically embarrassing rumble, loud even for her small form. She saw the corner of his mouth twitch, but he managed to hold back his laughter this time. She hopped up onto the couch beside him, sitting as delicately as it was possible for a gangly kitten to do.

As she watched, Severus dipped up a few spoonfuls of the hot chicken broth from his soup into a sauce and blew on it to cool it. "Be careful not to burn your tongue, it's still quite hot. You should probably eat the chicken first and let it cool a bit more, but it's up to you," he said, placing the saucer in front of her, as well as a small bowl filled with chicken that had been finely diced into tiny squares.

Severus watched out of the corner of his eye as Hermione delicately used her paw to dip up a piece of chicken and bring it to her mouth. It amused him that even as a kitten, she had impeccable manners. He thanked Merlin that she had more couth and better table manners even as a cat than Weasley's atrocious ones, of which Severus had been witness to too many times to count. After the war, Molly Weasley had been determined to coddle Severus in his sickbed. It mostly consisted of her foisting enormous amounts of home cooked meals on him while he was stuck in bed with no way to escape. He'd almost have preferred dying to listening to the woman constantly bemoan his "deplorable" condition. Did the woman not realize that he'd spent twenty years as a spy?

He began to eat his soup, sighing in delight when the deep, rich flavor hit his tongue. Jemma made soup like no other. It was always heavenly, filled with large chunks of root vegetables, tender pieces of chicken and noodles that were soft and floated in the savory chicken broth. He sighed as he finished the last bite, his stomach full and the heat of the soup warming his chilled body. He yawned and looked in surprise at the clock; it was after midnight already.

He turned and saw that Granger had also finished her meal, and was licking her paw delicately to clean it. "You're welcome to sleep here on the couch, Granger. I don't think we need another incident, do we?" he said, a smile in his voice.

She gave him a look that said, "shut up," as clearly as if she'd spoken it aloud. He placed the saucer and bowl on the tray next to his, knowing Jemma would come for them later. He tossed a heavy quilt onto the couch. "Just in case you do transform back," he said and walked towards his bedroom. "Goodnight, Hermione," he said, as he shut the door.

Hermione laid on the couch for a long while, twisting and turning herself trying to find a comfortable position. Finally she gave up and wandered around the room. She sat and yawned, growing tired when a thought struck her. Glancing around, she saw a way to her goal. She climbed atop Severus' desk and jumped, gripping the latch to his bedroom door and hanging on until it clicked open. Severus' voice came out of the darkness, startling her.

"If you were lonely, you could have just scratched at the door. Come on in, Granger."

Hermione simply walked into the room, her eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness. She managed to quickly use the edges of the sheets to scale the enormous (to her) bed and find Severus half-asleep on the bed. "Lay down, and go to sleep, Granger," he said, turning onto his side. Still unable to find a comfortable position, she inched closer and closer to Severus' warmth. Finally, he could take it no more and reached out, yanking her tiny body against him. "Now will you please go to sleep, for the love of all that's holy?"

Inwardly smiling, Hermione closed her eyes and snuggled under Severus' chin. She began a deep, rumbling purr in her chest that sent both of them quickly into a deep slumber.


	4. Come In Out of the Rain Ch. 4

True to Severus' prediction, Hermione did return to her own form while sleeping. This time, however, her clothes returned with her: an improvement. She awoke the next morning to a still-warm but empty bed. The covers had been drawn up over her shoulders and her hair was splayed over the pillow. She heard the bathroom door open and she turned her face to see a fully dressed and freshly-shaven Severus exiting the steam-filled room. For a moment, she caught a whiff of mint, aftershave and the clean scent of soap all underlying the smell she identified as purely Severus. . She smiled at him. 

"My clothes came back this time," she said proudly.  
.

"More's the pity he said, said teasingly, surprising her. She laughed too. "Though in truth, I'm glad. It means you're gaining more control, even if you're not conscious of it. I think before too much longer you'll be able to control the transformation fully...as long as you relax." he stressed. 

"Ugh. You make it sound so easy, Severus. But the pain hits and it's like no matter how hard I try to hold onto that thread that's me, I lose it and it gets pulled from my grasp."

"If becoming an animagus was easy, everyone could do it. Be glad it's harder than most think. Can you imagine the nitwits we'd have slithering and crawling around? Or worse yet, flying?" he shuddered. 

Hermione thought about that for a moment and shivered. 

Severus sat on the edge of the bed to pull on a pair of black boots. It was such a strangely normal thing to do that Hermione suddenly felt as though they'd created a routine. As he bent, his collar slipped a little and Hermione swallowed around the lump that formed in her throat when she saw the awful scars on his neck. "Severus?" she asked softly, causing him look at her inquiringly. She sat up straighter on the bed and leaned against the headboard, her hands resting on her knees. 

"How did you survive?" she asked, motioning to his neck. "You know, the bite from Nagini?"

He sighed and used his fingers to push back his hair before allowing it to flow back over his face like a thick black curtain, shadowing his features from her. He sat back against the footboard and began his tale: ""Surprisingly, it was Lucius who saved me. As you know, I gave Potter my memories. I passed out from the pain after you'd taken them. I know you thought I was dead," he said, raising his hand to stave off the inevitable apologies for thinking him dead.

"Lucius came to find me and brought me around long enough to force one of the antidotes I'd created after Arthur Weasley was attacked down my throat. He knew I'd have one. After the battle, he and Narcissa managed to Apparate me to the Manor, where they have an oath-bound Healer on staff. Even though I was close to death, they managed to pry my jaws open to pour in blood-replenishers while bathing the wound in dittany." He paused. 

"Between the two, they somehow got the bleeding to stop long enough to stabilise me.   
Even still, it was touch-and-go for a few weeks, because Nagini's venom was so toxic. It did some damage to my liver and deadened some of my nerves. And of course, left me with this hideous reminder," he said, motioning to the scarring.

He noticed a tear dripping from Hermione's eye. "I didn't tell you the story to make you cry over me, Granger," he said gruffly, alarmed. 

"I know," she said, and shocked them both by throwing her arms around him. "But I'm so glad he saved you, Severus. I know there were a lot of times you wished he'd just let you die. I remember the trial very well, I was there every day, so were Harry and Ron. I know you were angry with Harry for telling the Wizengamot about everything, but he honestly believed, we honestly believed, that you didn't deserve Azkaban, Severus. We still believe it. I certainly don't think you deserve it. We all make mistakes, and you realized yours and tried your hardest to fix it. And when you couldn't fix it, you tried for years to protect us, even when we made it extremely difficult for you, even when you tried to make us hate and doubt you. You still protected us, Severus. Thank you," she said softly.

Severus was stunned, to say the least. He didn't think anyone had ever told him thank you for anything he'd done. Without thinking, his arms tightened around Hermione and he buried his face into her hair. He breathed in her scent, her curls tickling his nose. She pulled back, staring up into his eyes, liquid cinnamon gazing into onyx. And then her lips were on his.

He gasped in surprise and closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the press of her soft lips against his. And then he was pushing her away, gently pressing her shoulders back. He cleared his throat as he tried to get his bearings. His voice came out softer than normal. "I think you need to return to your quarters, Hermione."

Blushing, she nodded, not ready yet to explore her own feelings and why the urge to kiss him had struck so hard that she'd foolishly let it happen. She nearly flew from Severus' quarters to her own, slamming the door and leaning against it as she relived every second of her lips on his.

In his own room, Severus was doing the same thing and wondering what had come over the woman. Had the kiss been out of pity? He didn't want her pity. Though he couldn't part his thoughts from thinking how stunning she'd looked upon waking: eyelids heavy and hair splayed across his pillows, still warm from sleep and looking as if she'd been recently made love to, and well. He sighed and rubbed his face in frustration.

He gathered his robes and flung them on over his frock coat. He tossed a generous pinch of floo powder into the fireplace and called out the first place he could think of where he could talk to someone about what was running through his mind. "Malfoy Manor!"


	5. Come In Out of the Rain Ch. 5

While Hermione was on the verge of having a somewhat massive freak out back in her own quarters, Severus found himself sitting in Lucius' study at Malfoy Manor, slouching in his wingback chair in front of the fire and holding a cut-glass goblet of Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey in a loose-fingered grip.

Lucius was trying, and not particularly succeeding, in stifling his laughter. "Who would have thought the little Gryffindor had it in her?" he choked out between guffaws.

Severus glared at him. "Not helping, Lucius," he growled out.

"But honestly, Severus, I can't believe you turned her away. When was the last time you had a young, nubile witch practically throw herself at you?" Lucius drawled.

"She was a student of mine, Lucius. That would just be wrong, wouldn't it?" Severus queried. His mind was still whirling with images and his lips still tingled with the impression of phantom lips on his.

"I believe the key word here is 'was'. You told me yourself there was no pity in the girl's eyes. She apparently carries some affection for you. And you of all people, my friend, are deserving of some well-earned amore," Lucius asserted.

Severus considered Lucius' words. It was true that Hermione was no longer a student, and hadn't been for a few years now. Yet there was still a part of him that remembered an overconfident, brilliant, knobby-kneed eleven year-old. She'd always had such a tenacity of spirit, even during the darkest days of the war. Severus knew that if it hadn't been for Hermione Granger, the war would have been lost before it had almost begun.

She was the brains behind the trio and always had been. They wouldn't have gotten beyond his own logic puzzle in their first year if not for her, let alone solved any of a great number of conundrums they were presented with in subsequent years.

True, Potter was bright, but not that bright, and other than his brilliance at wizard's chess, Ron Weasley had shown no real magical distinction. In truth, The Ginger Menace was barely able to wield a wand without causing injury to himself and anyone in a ten-foot radius. More often than not, the two of them had forged right ahead into danger with only Hermione as the voice of reason, a voice they rarely listened to.

And since when did he refer to her as Hermione instead of Miss Granger, Professor Granger or simply Granger? Severus sighed and shook his head.

Beside him, Lucius sensed his friend's distress. "Come now, Severus, it's not as bad as all that. If you truly care for the girl, and she cares for you, let things progress as nature intends. I know your methods, my friend. Do not push her away if she's what you really want. You have spent far too many years alone. You've only got another good hundred years or so in you," he teased.

Severus looked at his friend, a tiny smile at the edges of his lips. "Yes, and you're so much more ancient than I, Lucius."

"Don't be daft, I'm in my prime. In fact, Narcissa and I were thinking of giving Draco a little brother or sister."

Shock was the least of what Severus felt at this news. "Truly? You had such a hard time conceiving Draco, I find it difficult to believe that you would wish to try for another child now."

Lucius had the grace to blush, just a little. "Narcissa wants a little girl. After all we have been through, we have grown closer again, as we were when we first were betrothed and wed. Both of us are in perfect health, though she has begged me to ask you for help."

"Help how?" Severus asked.

"As a Potions Master, I'm sure there are certain...concoctions that would make it easier to conceive?" Lucius asked, his voice light. But his meaning was clear: legal or illegal substances, anything to help provide Narcissa with the baby they both wanted.

"I'll see what I can find, Lucius, you know that. But I don't dare go through illegal channels just yet. I've only just been released from parole. They'll be watching me for some time yet, just waiting for me to make any slip, any mistake. I'll not give them the chance to put me in Azkaban," Severus said tautly.

Lucius nodded. "Agreed."

"What do you think Draco will say to a baby brother or sister?" Severus asked, swirling his firewhiskey in the light from the flames, glad that the conversation had gone to a somewhat lighter subject than himself and Hermione... Granger... He had to start thinking of her as Granger again, or he was going to find himself in major difficulties.

"We both hope he will be happy for us. We know we were not the best of parents to him, but we wish to do better- will do better by this child. And Narcissa and I both believe that Draco would be an incredible influence on this child, if we are able to conceive." A small smile played at the corners of Lucius' mouth at the thought of a new baby and it was enough to make Severus agree in his own mind to look far and wide for a way to help his friend. After all, Lucius and Narcissa had saved him: he owed them that much at the very least.

"I agree," Severus intoned. "He has grown into himself as a man and he's a fine teacher, as well. I haven't seen a group of teenagers as well-taught in Defense Against the Dark Arts since before the Dark Lord cursed the position. Draco prides himself on knowing that no student that leaves his class is ignorant or inept in how to defend themselves. I'm proud of my godson, Lucius, as you should be incredibly proud of your son."

Lucius nodded. "We are extremely proud of him. He learned much from my failures, both as a father and a man. I have high hopes for his children some day, when he finally decides to settle down with some young witch. And speaking of young witches...what are you going to do about yours?" Lucius asked, eyes twinkling as he brought up Hermione again.

"I don't know, Lucius. I just don't know," Severus said, taking one last, long gulp from his glass before heading back to Hogwarts, his young witch on his mind.


	6. Come In Out of the Rain Ch. 6

While Severus was having his heart-to-heart with Lucius, Hermione was pacing the floor of her own quarters, berating herself. "How could I be so stupid? What was I thinking? Honestly, Hermione, could you be any more predictable, falling for a former professor? Wait, falling for him? It was just a kiss, right? Oh Merlin!" she cried as she paced back and forth in front of her couch, her hair more frazzled with every pass. 

Close to tearing her hair out, she tossed a large pinch of floo powder into the fireplace. "The Burrow!" she called out and was glad when Ginny Weasley's head was the one that appeared in the flames. 

"Hermione? Hey! How are you? What's wrong, you look like hell?" Ginny said, when she got a good look at her friend's face.

"Gin, I need you. I'm losing my mind, I think." Hermione groaned to her friend.

"I'll be right over! MUM, I’M GOING OVER TO HERMIONE’S. NO, I DON’T KNOW WHEN I’LL BE BACK. I’LL FLOO YOU LATER!” Ginny hollered to Molly. "Step aside, Hermione, I'm coming through," she said, giving Hermione just enough time to shuffle out of the way before the tall, lithe redhead was stepping through into her chambers. 

One look at Hermione’s haphazard curls, lip chewed almost bloody and frown lines practically carved into her face and Ginny groaned. She grabbed her friends shoulders and sat her down on the sofa with a soft “Oof!” from Hermione. “You, stay! I’ll be right back,” she said, pointing at Hermione with a look that was so Molly Weasley that Hermione didn’t dare disobey. 

Ginny walked down familiar halls that were eerily quiet. She followed a path that she’d taken so many times she could have done so blindfolded if she had to. She came to a painting of a bowl of fruit and tickled the pear until it giggled and turned into a handle with a “pop!” Ginny pushed open the door and stepped inside the room that was warm and redolent with the scents of freshly baking bread and roasting meats; it was a scent that was firmly lodged in her memories of Hogwarts. She was immediately surrounded by houselves wearing spotless dish towels embroidered with the Hogwarts emblem. 

“Oh, Missy Ginny. How can we help you, Missy?” said one of the elves that Ginny recognized from her years as a student as Nippy. 

“Hello, Nippy. I’m going to need some supplies for a girl’s night. I’m going to need a couple bottles of white wine, some of that flatbread stuff muggles like...pizza, I think Hermione calls it, with lots of cheese and that spicy pepperoni stuff. Also, lots of chocolate and some ice cream, please, Nippy.” Ginny said, trying to think of some of Hermione’s favorites. 

Within just a few minutes, Ginny found herself loaded down with a basket brimming with the wine, chocolate and pastries, with a promise that the pizza and ice cream would be along as soon as possible. Ginny practically shouted the password to get into Hermione’s quarters, pushing past the door as she heaved the basket into the living room with a huff. Hermione was still right where she’d been shoved, looking up at Ginny with a glazed look in her eyes and barely blinking. 

“Oh hell,” Ginny said and quickly opened one of the bottles of wine, pouring it into a glass and shoving it into Hermione’s hand. “Drink!” she ordered and Hermione took a long gulp of the wine. Her eyes cleared and she quickly finished the glass, holding her hand out for another. Ginny poured it and reached into the basket for her own glass and poured wine for herself, settling back against the other arm of the couch. 

“Ok, Hermione. Spill. What’s got you so freaked out?” Ginny said, taking a sip of her wine.

“I kissed Snape,” Hermione said.

“You what?!” Ginny said, choking on her wine and spitting it all down her shirt. “Dammit,” she said, and with a quick wave of her wand and a silent “scourgify” had a clean, dry garment again. 

“I kissed him. I kissed Severus Snape,” Hermione reiterated. “Oh good Merlin! I kissed him!” she cried, and gulped down her second glass of wine, reaching for the bottle. “I don’t know what happened! He was there and I was there and the next thing I know I was throwing myself at him and planted my lips on his!” 

“Wait, wait, wait! No, there’s got to be more of it to this! Start from the beginning! I thought you two hated each other?” Ginny said, grabbing the bottle from Hermione and topping off her own glass before looking at her glass and just taking a long swill from the bottle instead. 

Hermione’s words were taking on a slight slur as she explained. “No, no, don’t hate him. We’re colleagues, after all. I’d say we were more of polite associates...colleagues, that's a funny word, isn't it? But he's always so, so DAMN polite! It was always, “Miss Granger” this or “Miss Granger” that. Would it have killed him to call me Hermione? Hell, I don’t know, maybe he wanted that distance because we caused him so much trouble when we were kids. You know I told him I was the one who set his robes on fire? I felt so bad about that that I finally just confessed! And all he did was sneer at me! The bastard,” she said, taking a gulp of wine with every other word. 

“Bastard? Why would you kiss him if he was a bastard?” Ginny asked. She stared at her glass and wondered for a moment where the wine went. She shrugged and poured more for the both of them. 

“Oh, do follow along, Ginny. He hasn’t been acting like a bastard lately. I *hiccup* had started my ani...animagic..no, aminicagus...oh is that pizza!” Hermione shrieked as two of the large, gooey-cheese covered manna-from-heaven pies appeared on the table in front of them. Along with two more bottles of wine. Realizing that they’d somehow managed to go through the first two bottles already (How had that happened?), Ginny opened a new bottle, albeit with some difficulty as it just didn’t seem to want to stand still and be opened. When she finally managed, after sloshing some onto her hand and licking it off, she poured each of them a glass, coming almost too close to the top of the glasses. 

As they devoured the pizza, Ginny managed to get the gist of what had happened between Hermione and Severus. “I still can’t believe you kissed him! Just wait til I tell Ron and Harry! They’ll absolutely flip!” she slurred. 

“No, no, no, this is a *hiccup* total secret, *hiccup* Ginny!” Hermione’s voice was shrill. “Harry will have a heart attack and *hiccup* Ron will explode. Poof! No more red headed ‘look how big my trouser snake is, but it’s really not’ Ron!” Hermione said, then started giggling when she realized what she’d revealed. 

“Wait, how did we get on the subject of my brother’s cock?” Ginny asked. “Besides, Ron’s not the one with the ‘trouser snake’ you’d need to worry about. B’lieve it or not, good ol’ George has him beat by a bit,” Ginny giggled.

“Ginny!” Hermione squealed, laughing and threw a pillow at her friend, missing my a mile and wincing when it hit something that landed with a crash that sounded like breaking glass. “How the hell do you know that, anyways?” she asked.

“Grew up in a house with allllllll those brothers and one bathroom, rem’mber? Was in..inev...bound to happen at one time or another. Ugh, all those boys. Just once, I’d like to throw a pair of boxers at them and tell them to stop wandering around buck-ass naked where everyone can see their dangly bits. Sorry, but fire crotch and morning wood is not the best image when you wake up busting to piss first thing in the morning,” Ginny cackled. There was a very audible “oof” as she slid off the couch and laid there, laughing. 

“Hey Hermione, you know what?” Ginny asked. Her voice was obnoxiously loud considering how close she was to passing out on the floor. 

Nearly passed out herself, Hermione answered with a “Hmmm?”

“I bet Snape has a big cock!” 

And that was the last thing Hermione remembered before passing out.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco Malfoy had been passing by the night before when he'd heard insane amounts of giggling coming from Professor Granger's (Call me Hermione, please?) quarters, the likes of which he hadn't heard since he was a student here at Hogwarts and had gotten dragged into sitting in on one of Pansy's girl's nights. _Never again_ , he'd promised himself. The group of girls had gotten completely sloshed and had then proceeded to compare the cocks of every guy they knew, and then added in how big they thought random other's cocks were, including professors, famous Quidditch players, and even the drummer for The Weird Sisters. He shuddered at the memory.

He'd only stopped for a moment, on his way to his own quarters to pick up a favorite set of robes that he wanted hemmed for his mother's New Year's party. But at the sound of a loud thump, he hurried over and knocked on the door. "Granger, are you okay in there?" he shouted.

Just as he was about to use his wand to bombarda the warded door open, Hermione was jerking it open, and nearly flying backwards with it, as it moved backwards. "Draco!" she crowed happily, pulling him into the room and hugging him. He stiffened in surprise and blinked. Had he entered the Twilight Zone? (Ok yes, so he'd gotten hooked on the show thanks to Hermione and a TV she'd managed to make work in a shielded area of the castle.)

"Uh, Granger? Are you alright?" he asked, trying to remove her arms, which suddenly seemed to have multiplied, rather like the Giant Squid, because every time he finally got them off, they appeared elsewhere, hugging him again.

"She's fine, she's just utterly sloshed, Malfoy!" came a voice from the floor. Draco had to hold in a laugh as Ginny "Weaselette" Weasley, lay sprawled on the floor, an overturned bottle of wine by her head, the tips of her hair dipping into a container of melted strawberry swirl ice cream.

"I see that," he said, and walked Hermione over to a chair. "Sit down, Granger," he ordered and she giggled harder with a "Ooh, so scary, Ferret!" that had him face palming and trying not to laugh at the same time.

He flicked his wand at the door, shutting it, applying a muffliato, and resealing the wards. "So, who wants to tell me what's going on here?" He asked.

"Oh, Hermione, you have to tell Draco about how you kissed Snape!" Weaslette replied.

"Oh, Draco, you'll never guess what happened!" Hermione said, eyes wide as she looked at him.

"You kissed Severus?" he said, blandly.

Hermione gasped. "How did you know?! Did you read my mind? Legillimency isn't very nice to use on someone who's had a couple glasses of wine, Draco," Hermione huffed.

"A couple of glasses?" Draco whispered to himself as he silently counted the two empty bottles and a third bottle that had been opened but appeared to not have been drunk yet. He sighed and poured himself a glass, before taking a sip of the strong red wine.

"Now then, my dear Hermione, please explain as to why you've been going around kissing my godfather?" he asked.

Hermione nodded so hard she almost fell of the chair she was sitting in. "Okay, but you can't telly anybody, got it?"

"I've got it, Granger, I've got it. Now spill!" he said.

And she did, she told Draco about everything from the first night of not beng able to change back to waking up naked next to Severus, to how it had become an almost nightly thing for them to work together to get her body and mind to accept the animagus form. "And then, then I went and kissed him! I'm absolutely certain I've destroyed absolutely everything, absolutely!" she cried.

"And now you'll never find out of Severus has a big cock!" Ginny cried from the floor. Draco's eyebrows rose and he looked over at the litle redhead sprawled on the floor. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Wow, Draco, did you know you are really pretty?" she said softly.

"I've been told once or twice, but never by you, Weaslette," he said.

"Oh, but you are!" she cried, sitting up and hobbling towards him. She tried to kneel in front of him, but ended up in more of a collapse. She raised her hand and ran her fingers through his hair. "Such beautiful blonde hair. I was always jealous of your hair, did you know?" she asked. He couldn't do anything more than hake his head no. "Yeah, because it was just sooo blone, so different than all the red around me." Her hands moved to his shoulders. "Such big, strong shoulders, I loved watching you play Quidditch, especially when I got to play against you and had a chance to ogle that tight ass of yours in your Quidditch uniform. Suddenly her hands were on his knees and slowly working their way upwards.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Weaslette! I don't think that's very appropriate right now. You're still completely sloshed, and I've never taken advantage of a lady, and don't plan to.

"Oh, that's such a shame," she said, sadly.

"Why's that?" he asked, gulping harshly.

She grinned up at him before tackling him to the ground and pressing her lips to his. "Because I sure want to take advantage of you!" she cried, giggling and covering his face and upper chest (that was now showing from her almost ripping it off of him) in slightly-slobbery kisses. He growled and summoned pillows before using his weight to push her off and onto the stack of pillows, breathing hard as he held her down. "Oh, Draco, if you wanted to be on top, all you had to do was say so!" Ginny said, grinning.

Suddenly there was an exasperated 'stupefy!" and Ginny went limp under him.

Draco turned to find his Godfather standing in the doorway, looking as confused as Draco felt. "Oh thank Merlin!" Draco said, coming to his feet. He looked around at the stupefied redhead, and the passed out, snoring Hermione.

He looked at his Godfather as he passed him, running for the door. "You deal with it!" he said, running for the comfort and safety (from crazy redheads) of his own rooms.


	8. Chapter 8

Severus looked around the room and sighed. "Jemma!" he called. The little house elf popped into the room, looked around and her mouth dropped open. "Oh my!"

Severus cleared his throat. "Jemma, I need you to bring me two hangover potions from my private cabinet, and could you please clean up this mess?" He asked the little creature.

Jemma nodded and with a click of her fingers, was gone. While the elf gathered the extra-strength hangover potions (that Severus often brewed for the mornings after a party held at Malfoy Manor), Severus wandered over to Ginny Weasley's form. The girl who'd been slobbering after his godson was now in a heap, snoring and drooling. He sighed in slight disgust as he picked her up and propped her onto the couch, grimacing in dismay as her strawberry-ice-cream-coated hair wore off onto his coat. He flicked a quick scourgify at the offending mess, both in the young woman's hair and on his coat to clean them. He covered the girl with a blanket from the back of the couch, knowing the stupefied girl would wake on her own in a while, though with a hellacious headache. Then he turned to look at his other problem.

Hermione had fallen asleep curled up in the chair, her legs tucked under her, almost kittenish in how she slept. Her chin was propped up on her hand, her hair tumbling around her face and shoulders in springy, satiny, deep brunette curls Small dark circles had begun to form under her eyes, and her lips were a natural pale rose. Her dark blue robes were wrinkled and there was a rather large red stain on the chest area, where he assumed she had spilt her glass of wine.

He sighed and walked over to her, shaking her shoulder gently. "Miss Granger? Hermione? Wake up," he said quietly. She stirred a little, her eyes opening half-mast to look groggily at him. "Sev'us?"

"Yes, Hermione. Come on, let's get you to bed," he said and helped her up out of the chair. He wasn't at all surprised when she tripped over her own feet and landed in his arms. "Merlin help me," he sighed and used a quick feather-light charm on the little witch before scooping her up into his arms and carrying her into the door that led to her quarters. Just before he entered, Jemma returned, and he nodded at the little elf as she began to clean and scrub the room, removing any traces of the "girl's night."

When Severus pushed opened the doors to Hermione's bedroom, he was quite surprised not to see a room covered with the red and gold of Gryffindor's Princess. Instead, it was done in cream and robin's-egg-blue. It was beautifully done and quite soothing, if he said so himself. The furniture was simple, but elegant, done in pine with a white-wash finish. A large canopied four-poster bed took center stage, with a clothes cupboard against the wall on one side of the bed. The other wall was taken up by shelves of books that he supposed held her very favorite books, and a white-wood-and-satin-cream-cushioned fainting couch was nestled into the corner. A fireplace was opposite the bed, shining warmth and a soft glowing light over the room, embellished by only a few candles here and there, except for the much brighter reading lamp on a table by the bedside and by the fainting couch. Though the furniture was a bit more feminine than he preferred, Severus admitted to himself that he found the room quite comfortable.

He sat Hermione on the edge of the bed and groaned when he realized that he couldn't let her sleep in those dirty robes. One of the things that Hermione took great pride in was clean robes and he was sure that the wine would permanently stain if he didn't get them to the house elves to clean immediately. "I'm going to Hell," he moaned to himself as he looked over the young witch, knowing he was going to have to undress her.

Trying to be as quick and efficient as possible, Severus hurried to undress Hermione, but found that a drunk young witchling was as hard to undress as an angry toddler. Her body was either held stiffly or completely boneless depending on whether he was trying to pull off a sleeve, or unbutton a cuff or front placket. He wrapped his arm around her back and lifted her, allowing the robes to slide off her onto the floor.

He groaned as her nearly-naked body, now clad in only a pair of white cotton panties and a plain white bra, was pressed against his body, which quickly responded to such stimuli, his dick growing hard in an instant. He closed his eyes and couldn't help himself from burying his face in her curls and taking a deep breath of her scent. He gasped and nearly dropped the poor woman when she sighed and wrapped her arms around him. She giggled and let out a small sigh, "Sev'us." before quieting again.

"Yep, definitely going to Hell," he whispered as he sat her back down on the edge of the bed, her upper body flopping to the side, her head on the pillow. He tossed the blue robes into the hamper where they disappeared, into the waiting hands of the Hogwarts laundry elves.

He turned to her wardrobe and opened it, flicking through her daily work robes and found a pile of folded long-sleeved cotton nightgowns. He plucked one from the shelf and shut the doors, sighing in relief. As he turned back to his former student, all he could see was one very grown up witch, who now had a hand tucked under her head, her lips slightly parted and her hair wild around her pillow. He didn't want to move her, but he sitll had to put something on her to decently cover her.

He lifted her upper body, readying her to put on the gown, but realized she still had hr bra on. Now, as a man, he wasn't entirely sure how uncomfortable wearing one of those devices must be, but he'd heard often enough in embarrassingly overheard conversations from the other professors, or his young students, and hell, even Narcissa at some point, that they were "torture devices." He honestly felt he could not leave Hermione in such an uncomfortable article of clothing.

His grumble of irritation soon became a moan as his fingertips quickly unfastened the hooks in the back of the bra, and as they slipped down her arms and (yes, he admitted it, allowed them to) ran across the sides of her breasts in the lightest of touches (he was a man, after all!), he had to clench his jaw not to take it any further than that. But he admitted, if only to himself, that she had a gorgeous pair of tits, tipped with coral-pink nipples that he wanted to suck on until she came undone underneath him.

Considering that by this point, his dick was hard enough to pound through concrete, he hurriedly dressed her and helped her into bed. He pulled the robin's egg blue satin comforter to her chin and turned to leave. He closed his eyes in irritation and defeat when her arm reached out and grasped his wrist. "Stay, Severus. Please? Please stay?" she whispered, with a yawn.

He turned to look at her, her cinnamon colored eyes sleepy and only half open. "Definitely, definitely going to Hell!" he whispered under his breath as he released a sigh and toed off his boots, tossed aside his frock coat and traveling robes, he unbuttoned the shirt cuffs and the top two buttons of his shirt in order to be more comfortable before he slid into the bed beside her, something that had become routine for the two of them over the last few weeks as she had been training. Of course, most of the time, those evenings started out with her sleeping as a kitten in his bed and ending up as her regular self during the night, and not the other way around, starting with her as her own self. Heaven forbid she wake up as a kitten in the morning, Severus thought to himself with a chuckle.

"What's funny?" she asked with a yawn.

"Nothing, go to sleep, Hermione. You're going to have an awful headache in the morning."

"Severus?" she asked, with a giggle, obviously still quite tipsy.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Hermione?"

"Ginny said something funny, and asked me if I knew or not, and I didn't know what to tell her," she said, giggling again.

"And what did the spectacularly drunk Miss Weasley ask?" he asked, certain he didn't want to truly know, but somewhat intrigued as well.

"She wanted to know if you had a big cock!" Hermione giggled.

Severus sputtered for a minute, completely at a loss. "She what!?" he asked.

His only response was a loud snore from his bedmate. He groaned and facepalmed. What a nightmare. He looked over at the little witch in the bed with him and shook his head in wonder. "Good night, Hermione," he whispered, as he closed his eyes and let sleep drag him into it's depths.


End file.
